Fixing Feuds
by ObliviateWho
Summary: After Harry and Draco have their bathroom duel in sixth year, an alternative punishment is devised for them both: to share a room. With the threat of Voldemort approaching, Harry and Draco must put aside their enmity to focus on a far greater evil. First Person. Can't promise the rating won't go up to M eventually.
1. Chapter 1

'SECTUMSEMPRA!', I shout, my wand slashing downwards. Rivulets of blood start cascading down his chest instantly, and I immediately realise what I've done. 'HELP!' I scream, running to the blonde boy as he falls to the floor. 'SOMEBODY HELP!'

The door creaks open as a familiar man runs in. It's Dumbledore, robes flapping as he dashes towards us. 'Harry,' he says quietly, then continues; 'this is of vital importance, you must hold his head at the right angle as I...that's it, a little higher, good lad. Now...' he begins chanting in a low tone, the words barely legible as blood siphons from the damp floor and into his wand. Once all the blood is gone he touches the wand to Draco's chest through Draco's shirt, and the wounds take it in instantly, starting to heal. The bloodflow from the wand stops, the once-deep gashes reduced to angry red lines in Draco's skin. 'Expecto Patronum.' whispers Dumbledore. A phoenix erupts from his wand, the blue Patronus unusually tainted with dark strands of poison much like his hand. 'Go to Madam Pomfrey,' he says. 'Get her to collect this boy at once!' The phoenix Patronus keens as it flies through the doorway. Dumbledore grabs me by the arm gruffly and hauls me to my feet. He twists sideways, and I feel as if I'm being squeezed down a dark pipe, blind and constricted on all sides.

I land in the chair on one side of Dumbledore's desk, and he stands opposite me. He's staring at me, his eyes hard and cold. 'Accio es causta,' he mutters. He sits as a book flies through his open window. As it lands on the desk I gasp silently. It's my Potions book, and the pages flip at a flick of Dumbledore's wand. He frowns as he quickly reads the notes of the Prince in the margins. He reaches the page with _Sectumsempra_ written in the margin. 'For enemies.' He says, looking at the book. 'For enemies?' he asks, and the disappointment in his voice cuts through my conscience like a knife. 'What enemies, Harry? What enemies in this school do you have in this school that you would hate this much? Why on Earth would you ever resort to such methods?'

'B-but Sir, Professor, I didn't know-'

'Didn't know what it did? But that's not my point, Harry! You see poor Draco Malfoy as an enemy! You have many more enemies in the world, The Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort, even Dolores Umbridge. A sixteen year old boy for whom you hold a schoolboy grudge is not your enemy!' I feel the hot rush of shame in my cheeks at his words and I look down. _Is Draco Malfoy really worth worrying about?_

Moments pass in silence, as I'm too ashamed to speak and Dumbledore smiles slightly, knowing his message has gone in. The silence is interrupted by Snape barging through the door. My heart sinks. 'This _stupid _boy has gone and put one of my students in the hospital wing, whilst you, _Headmaster_, sit here, not a care in the world. You, Albus, are getting more lax and complacent with the behaviour of your favourite student with each passing day! What example are you setting to your students? Why does Potter get preferential treatment?' He finishes his rant, seething and white.

'Severus, I only favour Harry as much as you favour Draco,' Snape tries to intercede but Dumbledore continues; 'However, I have taken your concern into account. I have devised a suitable punishment for Harry, one that I hope will both teach him and Master Malfoy a lesson, as well as to stop the age old feud between Hogwarts houses. I propose that both Draco and Harry share a dormitory for the rest of this year and the next, in the hope that they come to realise that the differences that separate them are not nearly as great as the similarities that bind them together.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: As much as it would be great neither Draco, Harry nor any of the other characters in this story are my own; they belong to the wonderful Joanne Rowling. If they belonged to me Harry Potter would not be **_**quite**_** the same.**

**Thank you 1demandrespect01 for my first review! I'll take your quotation considerations into account **

"Harry Potter must follow Dobby sir!" says the squeaky house elf as levitates my case up a winding staircase. I pant as I follow, rushing to keep up with the energetic elf. A door slams open at the top of the stairs ahead of Dobby and we're through. The room is at the top of a tower, with two four poster beds opposite each other, one garbed in curtains of green and one in red. I start for the red bed but Dobby sets down my case by the silver one. "But Dobby-" I start.

"Dobby is under orders from Professor Dumbledore that Mr Potter must have the Slytherin bed, and Dobby is not allowed to let Harry Potter or the Malfoy boy to persuade him otherwise!" I see it would be a futile effort to convince him otherwise so I go to the bed with green curtains. The bed has a silver bedcover on it. A green lion and red snake are etched into the pillow. I resignedly sit. "Thanks Dobby." I say. He grins.

"It is an honour Harry Potter sir. I shall be up with the Malfoy boy in…." He disappears with a crack. "Five seconds!" he squeals as he reappears and Malfoy lands in a heap on the red and gold bed. "Stupid bloody house elf." He says, "Sloppy, rude, insolent-!" he shouts.

"Will you shut up?" I say, cutting across him. "If you weren't such an arse maybe he'd be nice!" Malfoy stares at me as if he's been slapped.

"House elves don't want niceties, they only want to serve, don't you elf?" Dobby cowers.

"Firstly, his name is Dobby, not elf, and secondly you should know that, given he lived at your house for the first thirteen years of your life!" I snap back. Malfoy looks at me, stunned.

"So…that's the elf that…" he mumbles, then does the most unexpected thing by saying "I thank you, Dobby." Both Dobby and I sit in silence. With a loud crack Dobby disappears. We both sit, awkward, for several minutes. "Switch?" I ask and he nods, and we cross the room to each other's beds. I already feel more at home amongst the red livery than I did with the green and I begin to relax just a little. "I suppose I'll start with sorry." I say, and Malfoy cocks his head at me. "For the curse… I really don't like you, but as Dumbledore said, you really aren't my enemy. I don't hate you."

"That was rather lovely, Potter. But for the record, you should have accepted that handshake long ago, and maybe this situation isn't the one we would be in. I genuinely liked you once upon a time, before I even knew you. I felt a connection and you ruined it." He grimaces; "I certainly didn't expect that much to come out. I didn't even intend on speaking to you. I really shouldn't be…wait…" he pulls out his wand and mutters "_Aparecium_." a bubble expands from his wand, glowing red. "A babbling spell!" he says, annoyed. "Dumbledore wants us to keep talking, sort out our differences Sorry but that is not happening. I'm going to bed." And with that, he walks through a door I hadn't noticed at the back of the room. I hear the tap running, then the brushing of teeth. He exits what must be the bathroom and I scurry in, avoiding him slightly. It's slightly disconcerting sharing a room with the boy who's been your mortal enemy for a number of years. In the bathroom there is a large bath, one toilet and one sink. Sitting in slots in the sink are two toothbrushes. One has obviously been used so I grab the other. I finish brushing my teeth and exit the bathroom.

Standing in front of me is Malfoy. And he's naked. He has his back turned but he turns in my direction as he hears me approach. Seeing my shocked expression and the way I keep my eyes looking above the waist he smirks and steps to right in front of me. "Never seen a man naked before, Potter?" he asks, pressing himself up against my clothed body. I can tell he's just trying to make me uncomfortable so I retaliate, putting one arm on his waist.

"Of course, Malfoy. I just have certain standards of man." Damn. I meant to intimidate him, but the babbling spell must be taking effect on me too, making me more flirtatious than fearsome. I step away from him and to my own bed. "Be warned, Potter," he says as I pull off my shirt, and continues: "I sleep like this."

"Be warned, Malfoy because so do I." I say as I pull off my trousers. We both get into our individual beds without another word, our sparring and flirting match apparently over for the night. I'm asleep as soon as my head has hit the pillow.

When I wrest myself groggily from sleep, There's something heavy and furry on my chest. Thinking Dumbledore must have stuck us in a room with a Puffskein infestation I grab my glasses from the table as I open my eyes. It is most certainly not a Puffskein on my chest but the head of a certain blonde haired boy, his arm stretched over my body. I can feel his leg crossing both of mine and something altogether warmer touching the leg closest to him. A note rests on his back, and it reads in spidery green writing:

_Dear boys,_

_You broke the rules by switching beds, so here is further punishment. I have taken away the other bed. If you choose to break any more rules, I can and will make this bed smaller. I do hope you enjoy proximity,_

_Dumbledore._


	3. Chapter 3

**I know, I know, it's been two years and all you get is one 500-word chapter, but people are still following and viewing this story so I owe it to them to continue (and I've finally finished school YAY!) – in future I think this is how it'll be, 500 words every week or two. Hopefully you can see how my writing has improved in the intervening years.**

"BASTARD!" says Malfoy, pacing the room in a green silk dressing gown. I'm still in bed, watching the parade with a bemused expression. After being woken up he'd practically rolled out of bed before preserving his modesty with said dressing gown. "The absolute fucking bastard! This goes against every school rule! This is dark! This is horrible! This is… it's grooming, that's what it is!"

"Malfoy, calm down-" I start, but he's having none of it.

"Calm down! Calm down? I just woke up on top of a very naked and very uncomfortable Harry Potter! I'm being forced to share a bed with Harry _bloody_ Potter!"

"I'm still here, you know." I deadpan. He gives me one glare before storming off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. "And why," he starts, voice muffled by the door, "is there no shower? A bath is completely impractical!" the indignation in his voice starts me laughing, as if the greatest injustice of the last 24 hours is his lack of shower. "It'll be fine." I say. "You use the bath first and I'll have your bathwater after you." This is apparently not the right thing to say. "What are you, some kind of animal?" he asks from behind the door. "You want to bathe in my dirty bathwater?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought Malfoys didn't get dirty," I shoot back. "I'd assumed you were above that kind of thing." I grin as I hear a snorting sound from the bathroom, and realise that this situation seems more like _banter_ than any real kind of argument. In fact, it's the nicest we've been to each other since the first time we met. I get out of bed and put a pair of boxers on, then pull on my school robes over the top. I'm thankful that I did as there's a polite knock on the door. I unlatch and open it to find Professors McGonagall and Snape side by side, expressions akin to those of executioners. "I assume by now that yourself and Mr Malfoy have worked out some kind of timetable?" Snape asks, before continuing: "I'm sure Malfoy is sensible enough to have gone over it already with you?"

"Professor Dumbledore didn't mention any kind of timetable, Sir." I reply, trying to keep my tone respectful.

"You didn't know that you'd also be sharing classes?" asks Professor McGonagall, seeming incredulous. "In any case, we've devised a suitable timetable for you both to follow and which we feel offers enough compromise - in other words, you'll both be giving up certain subjects and taking on others. You'll have a lot of learning to do." And with that, McGonagall and Snape turn as one and sweep from the doorway in a flurry of tartan and grease. I pick up the two identical timetables which have appeared on a side-table to find that not only am I giving up Charms in order to study Advanced Alchemy with Malfoy, but he's being forced to forgo Arithmancy in order to study Herbology with me. Underlined in pink on each of our schedules is a brand new addition to the timetable – _Muggle Studies – Charity Burbage. _

Malfoy opens the bathroom door a crack. "Was anyone just in here?" he asks. "I thought I heard voices, but didn't particularly fancy Grainger and Weasley seeing me in my bathrobe."

"It wasn't Hermione or Ron," I start, "but you're going to want to see this."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks guys for the favourites and follows! They're much appreciated, as are the lovey and constructive reviews. This chapter is even shorter but more seems to happen…let's call it a more condensed form of writing. **

Chapter 4

"….to conclude, no one really _does_ know the function of a rubber duck." finishes Charity Burbage and with a flourish of her wand, the rubber duck floating in the bathtub she has set up in the middle of the classroom multiplies into 30 more. "Your task," she says, "is to write a 30-inch essay on the history of flotation, to be handed in to me next lesson. Class dismissed."

Malfoy is out of his seat before I can even begin packing my own bag, and he swipes a duck from the bathtub as he storms from the room. His chair has been pushed as far away from my own as the table will let him all throughout the lesson, as if putting physical distance between us will cause our predicament to no longer exist. It's a futile effort, as our timetables are identical and he knows as well as I that Dumbledore might dole out more punishment if we choose to disobey him. I rush out of the classroom to ensure Malfoy doesn't put his short term hate over the long term punishment but as I rush from the door I collide with Ginny, who appears to have glued herself to a certain Seamus Finnigan. I feel the monster that seems to now permanently reside in my stomach growl, and after the mess of the last two days I feel I'd like nothing more than to punch him in the face. My hand inches towards my wand, but before I can do anything Seamus coughs, and from his mouth comes a tiny rubber duck. He coughs again, almost choking as another forces his way from his throat. It hits the floor with a squeak. His face reddens, and with a cough he races down the corridor, ducks falling from his mouth more and more frequently as he careens in the general direction of the hospital wing. When I look around to see who cast the spell, I spot Malfoy very surreptitiously slipping something small and yellow into his pocket. "Harry-" starts Ginny, but I'm already pushing past her, burning with curiosity as to why Malfoy would do such a thing for me.

I finally catch up to him, as his long legs seem to carry him down the hallway with much less effort than my own shorter ones. "Why?" is all I have to ask.

"Because," he starts, "there were Gryffindors kissing in my line of sight and I'd rather keep my breakfast." His tone seems to warn of no more conversation so for once I steer clear of the topic I'd most like to discuss.

"What have we got next, do you know?" I ask.

"Potions, with Slughorn." he replies.

Great. My first Potions class of the year without the help of The Half Blood Prince. This will be fun.


End file.
